The Wolf and the Assassin
by payn92
Summary: Fear, pain, acceptance... I see it in his eyes. He kneels, begging for mercy, pleading pitifully in hopes I have the heart to let him live. The .44 revolver raises, and a thunderous sound is the last he hears. I am weapon #117-38, and this is my story.
1. Intro

Here it is people, the redo of "Of Wolves and Porcupines?"

Remember I dont own Xmen.

* * *

You ever wake up one morning and complain about something stupid? Like maybe your bed wasn't comfortable enough and your back is a little sore. Or maybe you didn't like last night's dinner.

Well, you should be grateful. Some people don't have beds to sleep on, just the floor. They don't get hot meals every night; I bet they are lucky to get one meal a day. Hell, some of them don't have any form of shelter, and spend the nights freezing their ass off in the cold.

Then, for the very unlucky few, they live a life similar to that of my brother and I.

I'm sorry, where are my manners? My name is, I'm told, Pierce Miller, but I'm referred to around the facility as Subject 117-38. I'm a mutant; my gene was active at birth. My brother, Riley Miller, or Subject 117-37, older than me by four years and a powerful mutant, talks about my parents from time to time. About how the men in black suits came and offered them money in exchange from him and I. How they were killed when they refused to sell us.

I grew up in this hellhole; my brother always being there for me was the only thing that made this almost bearable. I used to dream about how he would use his mutation to fight off the guards and let us escape this God forsaken testing lab. That was 12 years ago, now I know escape is impossible.

So far there have been 36 failed attempts, 36 screaming mutants as the life was torn painfully from them in that damned genetic enhancer, or "the execution chamber" as we began calling it, since there has yet to be a single survivor. Well, not entirely true, one made it out alive; but he literally, no figurative meaning involved, exploded three hours later in his cell. That was a gory mess, one that I had to clean up since I was on cleaning duty that day.

Riley and I are the next subjects to go into the chamber; most likely it's next victims too.

The hour draws near. I can hear fellow mutants, my brothers in everything but blood. Some are offering condolences, others are simply crying because more death and there is one less person standing between them and the machine. I would be upset, but I know the feeling. Nobody, in their right mind, wakes up thinking, "the end is here."

I know you don't think anything of this, my story, but I write this in my final hours that maybe someday my bothers may be free from fear that they are going to be killed because some sick fucker wants to use them as lab rats. Sometimes, all it takes to change the world is one voice.

The time has come, the bolt has been undone and the doors are opening. My brother leaps to his feet, and tries to protect us, but its no use. I hear the dieing screams of guards, but another scream of Riley being hit with his high voltage collar. Neither of us is strong enough to take all of them down, even if they don't have the damned collars. The guards grant my one more minute to finish this, not realizing that I was putting it on the Internet. Please, don't let these killings continue. You may not see mutants as people who deserve rights and whatnot, but please, have a heart and stand up against people who would kill your children, should they be slightly different than everyone else.


	2. Alcatraz

Alcatraz Island, 2 months after Apocalypse.

Two men were walking along to the core of the famed penitentiary. The one on the left was dressed in military apparel, officer clothing to be more precise. He was tall and sharp looking, broad shouldered and had the air of command around him. His companion was dressed in an elegant suit. He was Hispanic, short cut hair, and average height. He was talking excitedly to his companion.

"We finally had some success Colonel, two subjects survived the process! If this project succeeds, we can mass produce weapons that don't require any care, only the objective."

"Sounds promising, but I'll need to see the results before I commit anything. This project needs it, but I need to know it will work for sure."

A wide smile crossed the Hispanic's face, "Of course, I figured that would be your response. The subjects have been monitored and trained for three years now. We also brought both subjects, and we'll demonstrate how well it worked for you, if you'd like."

"Domingo, you simply are amazing. Lets go see your weapons."

Domingo Chavez, the worlds most renowned arms dealer. Richest man on earth too, thought he couldn't be in the spotlight like Bill Gates, simply because of his work.

They arrived at a door that was guarded by a soldier dressed as a tour guide. The soldier snapped to attention and saluted the colonel, which was responded to with a mere nod.

Stepping into the elevator, they descended into one of America's super top-secret military installations.

The elevator opened after 45 seconds and let its occupants out and into a maze of corridors. After walking together, chatting idly, for another few minutes they arrived at a security locked door. After the colonel swiped a security card, the door slid open automatically, allowing him and Domingo into the room.

Inside was an elaborate, state of the art training facility, designed to simulate any scenario a soldier might come across. In the center of the bare room were two teens, both of average height. The first was a bit taller, and had dark brown hair, attractive features, with tattoo like markings of flames covering his arms. He was wearing black tactical clothing with a handgun holstered on his waist.

"That's subject 117-37." Domingo gestured at the dark haired boy. "He was the first success. His mutation is he can create and control fire. We used our… methods to make him stronger, and faster, as well as enhancing his power tremendously, to an almost un-stoppable level. He's been trained for multiple enemy combat and demolition."

"He," He gestured towards the second teen. He had sandy blonde hair, features that were average enough to let him blend with a crowd on the streets, but sharp enough to blend with higher society. He wore, again, black tactical clothing, though his was only his pants. The shirt was a simple white T-shirt covered with a black leather, hooded jacket. He wore sunglasses, even inside, which intrigued the colonel. "Is 117-38, our greatest success. Not just with this project, but every project we've ever tried. The machine enhanced his power like his brother, but it didn't stop there. It made him faster, stronger, as well as removed of any useless emotion; all he feels is rage and bloodlust whenever we activate it. His heart can use four times as much adrenaline than you or me, allowing him to do amazing things. The rest? I think you should see for yourself."

With a wave of his hand, an armed soldier escorted '37' out of the arena through an open door, while four other doors slid open, revealing a total of twenty-four soldiers, each armed with a different weapon, most melee but a few firearms mixed in for an extra show.

The colonel watched with interest as the soldiers readied their weapons. The teen never even flinched, just stood there, waiting for something.

"These are all my men, just so you don't think I'm harming your people. With your permission, colonel." He was responded with a nod and Chavez allowed a wide grin. He pushed a button on the console and spoke excitedly into a microphone, "Fifth freedom."

Down below in the arena, '38' finally moved. He nodded, reached up to a transmitter in his ear and pushed a button. He only spoke one word, his voice calm and clear, "Acknowledged."

Two blades slowly extended from his wrists, and he stood very still, waiting for an opening.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Suddenly '38' sprinted towards one of the 3 soldiers with the guns. Ducking and dodging around weapons he made his way. One soldier was stupid enough to get in his way. Without breaking step, he impaled the guard through the heart, holding him as a shield, just another soldier opened fire with his gun, a MP5K submachine gun. The now dead soldier's body jerks around as the 9mm rounds hit his corpse. Once the magazine is empty, the gun just clicked, telling everyone he was empty.

Dropping his shield, '38' sprinted to the reloading soldier. Looking up from his weapon, a look of sheer terror crossed over his face. He dropped his gun and put his hands up in a plea for mercy… but none came. '38' stabbed him in the gut with his right blade, folding him in half. He quickly drove his left blade through his heart. The soldier fell to the floor, dead before he ever reached it.

The other soldier were now right on top of '38.' Wasting no time, the first soldier swings his combat knife, in a reverse grip, at his target's head. Bringing his left arm up, '38' caught the soldier's arm, directly in the elbow. With his right blade, he stabbed him three times in the chest, a small spray of blood erupting from his chest with each impact.

Dropping the corpse, he made quick work of six more with slashed throats, severed limbs, or impaling. Number ten wasn't so easy. Swinging his sword wildly, but in a deadly manner, he attempted to kill '38.' After blocking 15 swings, an opening was spotted. His right blade was quickly retracted and replaced with another, like a dagger in a reverse grip. Holding his new weapon out blade down, he caught a horizontal slash. The blade bounced off, but '38' wasn't done just yet.

In a flash, the blade was stabbed through the soldier's foot. The soldier let out a scream of pain and instinctively leaned down to grab his foot. That was his last mistake. Driving his left blade up, it impaled the soldier in the face, killing him instantly, with blood spraying everywhere.

More and more soldier fell to '38's relentless hunt, until finally there were merely two more. The first was armed with duel machetes, while the latter of the two was using a USP .45 handgun.

Twirling the blades in unison, the soldier attacked fiercely. Dodging and blocking the attacks, '38' looked for an opening to finish him for good. Finally finding one, he took full advantage. Catching the left blade against the tip of his left boot, obviously steel-toed, he drove both his left and right blades into the soldier's chest. He twitched three times before blood started coming out of the corner of his mouth.

Now there was merely one soldier left, and he had a gun. Holding it out he yelled, "Don't move, or I will fire!"

'38' turned and, the colonel thought, was going to surrender. Chavez grinned, "Now for the real test. Wait 'till you see the best part."

'38' merely turned and gave the soldier the 'twin flag salute,' causing him to fire off one shot, aimed perfectly at his target's head.

'38' reacted, faster than any human, and twirled around in a circle, his left blade coming up and making a circle as well. Reaching the 360-degree mark, he outstretched his arm rapidly, and before you could blink, the back of the soldier's head exploded, blood and brain matter scattering all over the floor.

The colonel was dumbstruck. Had he actually just deflected a bullet? He turned to the arms dealer, who was beaming proudly, and spoke, "My God! Did he really just…?"

Chavez's grin grew wider, "I told you he was amazing, did I not? He can do much more than that. His regeneration abilities are amazing. We recommend using him for assassination missions, but that's up for you to decide. So, you want to buy them?"

Domingo Chavez left the island base with a wide smile, without his experiments, his pockets $24 million heavier.


	3. Welcome to the Jungle

Hey guys, sorry about the slow updates, but my computer died and I just now got it workin. I'll try and update more often for ya.

* * *

One month later, somewhere in South America:

38's pov:

Finally, we get to make a real kill, no more training. No more killing people who are locked in a metal room as part of an obstacle course.

Course, it would be better if we knew where the fuck we are. 37 and myself woke up in the back of a C-130 cargo plane, tied together wearing parachutes and khakis, clothing I knew as basic jungle fatigues. 37, or Nova as our handler dubbed him (more for his hot-head personality than anything.), immediately started panicking, some crap about 'If we were meant to fly, we would have fuckin' wings.'

Our handler, a 'green' lieutenant, walked over and dropped a dossier on the floor in front of us. I flipped it open as Nova leaned over to read as well.

Name: Target 001.

Location: Highly Classified.

(Insert useless facts here)

Reason for Termination: Head of largest drug production and distribution Empire in the world.

That's all I needed to know. Making sure Nova had seen the picture; I simply slipped it into my cargo pants.

"Gear?" I liked to keep speaking as simple as possible around these people. They had emotions, and did not have my capacity to understand logic. Nova on the other hand, I didn't mind, though he still had emotion. He wasn't as irritation, though, when I was focused, I didn't talk much to him either.

"We got some, don't worry. This way." He led us the short distance to the locked equipment cabinets.

He gestured towards one and I popped it open, taking a moment to survey what they had given us: a map, C-rations, enough to last four days if stretched, a machete, flint and tinder, and plenty of other survival supplies. The only 'weapon' was a Remington 700 .30-06 bolt-action rifle with a custom sniper scope, bipod and sound/flash suppressor, plus a rangefinder to go with it. If I had the ability, I probably would have laughed when I noticed there were only 5 bullets, how nice of them. I eyed the lack of weapons…

"Guess you don't think we'll run into trouble?"

He laughed, "No, we think you might, but we figured with your… talents, you wouldn't need them."

Nova laughed, "Probably not, but they help, more for intimidation than anything."

I groaned, "How much longer 'till the drop?"

He the lieutenant glanced at his wristwatch, a cheap, plastic Timex, "About five minutes. Grab the gear and get ready."

It took two and a half minutes to divide and pack everything. It was decided that I would carry and utilize our single long arm, since I was the more adequate marksman. After reviewing the map and talking over various tactics with Nova, the pilot announced we were getting close to the DZ. The ropes holding Nova and I together were cut and we lined up for the jump.

"You ready?" It was our handler, concern in his voice.

I looked him in the eyes, venom dripping from my words, "Sir, I LIVE for this shit."

With that I jumped from the plane.

Skydiving isn't as exhilarating as people would think. Sure you have the whole weightless feeling, and the fact that you're falling at 200mph, but it isn't as entertaining as watching someone who is scared to death from it, though I have yet to see someone fall dead from fear alone…

We were on the ground and getting our bearings in a mere three minutes from leaving the plane. Nova had a slightly rough landing and bruised his shin on a small tree. Lucky for him, said tree was still flexible.

We began the slow and tedious, three-day hike that would take us to the 'secret' drug making facility. Privately I was wondering, since they already knew where the damned place was, why they didn't just bomb them back to the Stone Age and be done with it all. But then I wouldn't be here, actually in the field with a rifle strapped to my back, ready to actually make a real kill.

We walked in relative silence. I didn't really care to talk since my… enhancement. I don't remember what I was like before, and I don't care to. The 38 that existed before me was weak and timid, or so I was told. Now I was a relentless, bloodthirsty killer… and that's the way I prefer it.

We walked all day, and set camp at night, not bothering to start a fire, knowing Nova could stay warm in a fucking blizzard, and 'warm' was a luxury I could live without. Our 'camp' was more like just moving some rocks and sticks out of the way and sleeping for the night.

We woke at 0430 sharp, and were moving in less than five minutes. We carried on in this manner for the following two days until we reached the facility.

The facility was NOT what I was expecting. I was thinking more like some huts with chemicals to make cocaine and other drugs. No, this was like a huge military base, complete with a security force that would rival an army.

We knew, from one of the useless dossier facts, that our target was obsessed with his product, and constantly checked on it, once in the morning and once in the evening. I glanced at my watch, an even cheaper one than my handler's, but what can you do about it? Anyways, I noted that it was almost time for him to show his face. Perfect.

I untied the Remington from my backpack. I then opened the pack and rummaged around to find the laser rangefinder. I quickly lazed a few spots in the compound and found an average of 427.3 meters. I made a quick calculation and adjusted the scope accordingly for an easier shot.

I then fitted the bipod and the rather large suppressor, taking my time so nothing was off. Couldn't have anything screwing with my shot, now could we? Finally I reached into a pocket on my pack and removed a single bullet. I worked to bolt back and opened the firing chamber, inserted the round, and slid the bolt closed and down, locking it into place. One was all I would need.

I got into a prone position, and took up the rifle, making sure both the bipod and my shoulder supported its weight. My final precaution was to make sure that I was resting my weight on only the bone of my elbows. At the range I was shooting, even my pulse could cause a miss, and a failed mission.

Finally I was ready. I waited for another ten minutes before the door to the main complex opened, revealing the Target. I smirked when I saw him, wearing a suit. Everyone else was wearing shorts and t-shirts, things to make working easier. Well, he would be saving the funeral home people some work, not having to dress him up or whatnot.

Time seemed to slow as I fingered the safety. Nova, who was looking through some field binoculars, went completely still, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Nothing existed in this word except me, the Target and the black cross on his chest only I could see, the one that marked his end.

_Breathe in…_

_One, two, three…_

_A finger curled around the trigger…_

_Exhale…_

_one, two, three..._

_Finger slowly squeezes the trigger…_

I know a rheumatic cough sounded, but I couldn't hear it, I was too focused on making sure that one round did its job.

I watched as he was hit in the chest, one perfect shot through his heart. At first he just had a confused expression, then he looked down at the wound, blood actually gushing out, and seemed shocked to see he was bleeding. He even put a hand to the hole and pulled it away, as if to see if the blood was real, or a part of his twisted imagination. Finally, he slumped to the ground. Target neutralized, absolutely no possibility of survival.

The entire process took merely three seconds, but seemed like eternity. Took a whole twenty seconds before the security force realized what had just happened and to start combing the grounds for the sniper, by which time Nova and me were already sprinting in the direction of the evacuation point.

It was our first successful mission, and, hopefully, one of many more to come.

* * *

Send me ideas with a review if you would.


	4. Neon signs and Pixies

remember I dont won anything of Marvel's

* * *

New York, 38's pov:

This one's going to be fun. A ring of criminals are selling drugs, children into slavery, firearms and basically anything they can get their hands onto. That alone is enough reason to terminate. However, they are using the cash to fund a terrorist organization.

Nova and I, well with our handler "leading" the mission, are going to find a way to infiltrate, and then terminate with extreme prejudice, no prisoners, and no survivors.

Nova and I are waiting in the van, waiting for the lieutenant. Fuck, why is he always allowed to be late? Almost every mission…

He finally shows up 20 minutes late, course we can't say anything to him. Anyways we head into the town, looking for the criminals. I lean over to Nova and, not caring if LT hears, say, "Apparently the LT expects them to be hiding in a building with a neon, flashing sign saying, 'Here we are! Come kill us!'"

It took five minutes and a death glare to get him to stop laughing. Finally he regained enough sense to work with me to come up with a backup, well main plan because I doubt a pixie is going to show up and tell the LT where we need to go. Maybe it will take him back to Unicorn Land, too? Nah, I'm not THAT lucky.

"What if we brought down some smaller groups and interrogated them?"

"I doubt that would work, but you're on the right track Nova. I'm thinking we hit up an airport."

"Uh… not that I doubt you 38, but why check an airport?"

I chuckled, "Well, their second largest profit is child trafficking. Were better to find marks than at an airport?"

"Alright, how about if we split up to cover more ground? You take the airport; me and LT will take down easy to find drug rings and other criminals to find leads. Activate GPS tracking when you find it."

I nodded, "LT, drop me off at the airport."

"What? Why?"

"I'm going to take a plane to Hawaii. Why the fuck do you think?"

"Uh…"

"I'm going to be looking into the organization from the child trafficking, while you and Nova take the drugs."

"But I'm supposed to be in charge of you. If I let you on your own you could turn."

I laughed, a short cruel sound, "I thought that was what the exploding collar was for, dumbass."

"Fine, grab your kit from the locker. ETA 2 minutes."

I nodded, and grabbed my firearms, twin Colt 1911 .45 pistols with suppressors. I slid them into the dual holster on my back and slid my black leather jacket on over that.

After I was suited up, I turned to Nova, "Remember our deal from the last job."

He nodded as we came to a stop and I hopped out of the van. Walking into the main lobby I started to look around from anything remotely out of place.

Six and a half hours later:

Fuck, why does this have to take so… Hello.

I noticed a van that pulled up out front, and the passenger was paying a little too much attention to the kids, especially teens. One seemed to catch their eye, a red-haired girl roughly about 16, average height, slender frame, white freckled skin.

Well, shit, looks like my luck is starting to turn around. The van started following her. Well, it may not be the group I'm looking for, but they are definitely after the girl.

I quickly made my way outside and shadowed the girl. I had to remain unseen, otherwise they would get spooked and I would lose my chance.

Slipping into a side alley, I found a fire escape. The ladder was drawn up, but that wasn't a problem. Running at the wall, I ran up four steps and jumped off, twisting my body as I did so. I caught the bottom rung of the ladder and swung there for a second. Gathering my strength I then pulled myself up and began climbing.

When I reached the top, I immediately started running, had to make up for some lost ground. I ran across the roofs, jumping to each one.

There! By a stroke of luck she was walking in the same direction. I took a second to get a SITREP; the van was still following, she was still oblivious, and neither party had spotted me yet. I followed a bit father until the girl stopped suddenly. Shit, I think she saw me!

I managed to dive behind something right as she looked near where I was. Fuck, now both parties were going to be suspicious. I was officially walking on thin ice now.

I made it a point to wait a few extra seconds before looking. Well, I still had a bit of luck left. They were moving again, and this time I was extra careful.

We went another couple blocks when the girl froze again. Aw shit, I was being so careful. I slipped behind some cover, careful not to let myself be exposed. Luckily, I was able to use the glare on a nearby window as a mirror to see what was happening. The girl was looking down the alley to her right. Shit, that's how they were going to get her, lures her there; trap her and its over. As much as I needed this opportunity, I found myself willing the girl not to go.

Of course she does though. Walks right into the alley, and the van starts backing into the alley after her. Shit, oh fuck, have to move fast or I'll lose my only opportunity. I bolted to the alley; I couldn't let them get away. I debated hitting the GPS on my belt, but decided against it. I took a flying leap off the rooftops, landing silently near the driver side door. Seeing that it was empty, I slipped into the back, concealing myself under a tarp hiding some drugs.

Two minutes later I heard the muffled screaming and a thud as the girl was thrown into the backend, followed by the rocking motion indicating that they were getting in. The van started up and we started moving.

I glanced under the tarp; the girl was tied, and gagged. They were pros, no question about it.

One spoke up, "Hey Vinnie, let's get this one back, then we'll go hunting for more." Both men laughed heartily.

The unnamed man went over to the girl, "Well, you'll make a great addition to the collection, wont you?" The girl kicked, well, what passes for a kick while tied up, him in the shins.

"OW! Fuck!" He grabbed her hair, "I'm going to enjoy putting you in your place."

I made my move. Pulling my facemask, a simple black bandana, up, I silently I slipped out of cover, and behind the man, "Just like I will enjoy showing you yours."

The girl's eyes widened, whether in fear or hope, I wouldn't know, while the man panicked and twisted bringing his hands up to defend himself, rather pathetically.

"Too late asshole." My voice was like death itself. A bone blade extended from the underside of my wrist as my hand slammed into his gut. He doubled over in pain as the blade pierced completely through him with a splash of blood. My other hand slammed an identical blade through his heart. His corpse jerked twice then went limp.

"What the fuck!" The driver, panicking drew a revolver. Dropping to my back, I drew one Colt just as I hear the sharp bark and a bullet flew past my face. Leveling the Colt I fired, the rheumatic cough sending the lone slug flying at him in response. A metallic clang sounded as he dropped the gun, the impact from the bullet to his gun making it impossible to hold onto. He looked at me, the fear was completely evident.

"Vinnie, I want to make this perfectly clear. That was NOT an accident. You're going to drive to your base of operations. If I so much as think you're trying to signal help, or trying to trick me, the next one will go through your throat." He nodded and turned his attention back to the road.

I untied the girls gag, "Listen closely, when we get there, run as fast as you can. Don't stop and don't look back. Forget this ever happened."

"O-okay, I will. What are you going to do?"

I cut the ropes holding her in place, "Don't ask, and just run, alright?"

"But, what will happen to you?"

"I'll be fine, just get as far away as possible."

"Do I at least get to know my savior's name? "

I chuckled humorlessly, "I don't have one."

We pulled up to a large warehouse… with a neon sign out front… Really? I was only kidding! Nova is going to die laughing from this.

I threw a glance in the girl's direction as we pulled up to the loading door, "You're to run as soon as I say, is that clear?" She nodded in agreement, so I turned my attention to the driver. I had to know if this is where I needed I needed or a trap.

"Vinnie, I'm getting the feeling that you're fucking me over." I emphasized the point by working the slide and placing the pistol against the back of his neck.

"N-no! I swear it! This is where we take the girls and drugs! Please! Don't kill me!"

I pointed to a parking spot out of the way, "Pull in there, turn off the ignition and come back here."

He did as instructed, such a good boy. I spun around and lashed the heel of my boot into his temple, more for the girl's sake than to spare him. I smirked when he hit the floor with a heavy thump. I turned to the girl, "Change of plans, you run and you'll just be in the crossfire. You wait here and keep your head down until I come get you." I pointed to the pile under the tarp, "That should stop a few bullets if it comes down to it." She nodded, so I made my move.

I hit the latch and stepped out, hitting the GPS transmitter on my belt. Time to face the music. Two men were approaching, obviously coming to offload. Concentrating, two bone throwing stars formed in my hands.

One called out, "Who are y…" I cut him off by flinging the blades into his and his partner's throats. They went down, gagging as blood started flowing down their tracheas. I continued walking across the yard to the warehouse. I reached the door and drew my pistols. Taking a deep breath I kicked the door in.

Inside was a guard shack. He instantly jumped to his feet, fumbling with his gun. I skillfully put a .45 slug into his head, the slug blowing his head apart in a gory display of blood and brain matter. I worked my way, room to room, killing with ruthless proficiency.

Finally the main warehouse. I took a moment to focus my senses, picking out individual scents, sounds, tastes in the air patterns. Huh, guess having some wolf in me is useful after all. At least 8 people in there, just waiting to be corpses.

I got my adrenaline pumping, and kicked in the door. The increases in adrenaline made time seem to slow, my heartbeat the only sound I could hear as my pistol rose and fire off a slug, one headshot, the head seeming to explode in slow motion. Swinging my arms 90 degrees in opposite directions, I fired again. Two more, messy headshot kills. There, catwalk. I dropped to a crouch as a bullet flew past my face and fire off two, each slug hitting him perfectly in the chest, one in the left lung, the other in the heart. Another jumped around the corner to ambush me, but I caught his scent and put my gun right where he was going to be. He came around the corner to a gun barrel to his face as I fired. His head literally evaporated into gory confetti as the slug ripped through his skull.

I slid behind some cover as the rush faded. My hands were shaking slightly, a slight side effect of a huge rush. I took a couple calming breaths before coming out of cover, only to freeze.

Three men, all ex-Special Forces by the look and the familiarity with which they held their guns. Two were directly in front while one was off to the side at roughly 2o'clock. "You move and you're dead. Now, slowly, put the guns on the ground and kick them to us."

I, unfortunately, had no other options. Begrudgingly, I lowered the guns and kicked them away. The third man slowly approached to subdue me.

My brain was on overdrive to come up with an escape plan, anything, but there were too many guns on me. I could take the two gunmen out with blades, but the third, now behind me, would finish me. Finally I resigned myself to waiting until later to escape.

Suddenly the two men holding me at gun point were hit by a massive stream of fire! Perfect! I extended some blades sideways to slice through my restraints and a blade from the underside of my wrist. Spinning I struck fast, the blade aimed directly at his throat. He was quick though and managed to move just enough so it merely grazed his jaw.

He took a step back and drew two knives, holding them with perfection, telling that he was very experienced with this sort of thing. I made a throwing star and flung it at his chest, only to have him simply avoid it. I charged, taking advantage of him being off balanced. He managed to not only block all my blows, but to get a nasty slash across my face, from above my left eye extending down, between my eyes, across my cheek and stopping just a half inch from my jaw bone.

I was furious now, and I let the rage and bloodlust wash over me, the sensation both soothing and terrifying at the same time. I charged, another blade extending from my other wrist. I lashed out, with perfect, fierce strikes. He never stood a chance. The first broke his guard; the next sliced his left knife hand, severing it, blood spurting out of the wound. The third went through his heart. I twisted it, savoring the look of agony on his face. It terrified some part of me I didn't know existed to know that I could savor a kill that much. I yanked the blade out with a small spray of blood, and his corpse hit the ground.

I turned and saw Nova watching, "You sure did take your fucking sweet time."

He chuckled, "Lt had to get his uniform straightened out."

I turned and saw said lieutenant sneaking up to us, gun drawn and making sure to clear the already cleared areas to get to us.

I walked up to him, discarding my now useless bandana, "Thank you so much for taking the time to look pretty for us. It damn near almost cost me my fucking life!"

"Well, we managed to save you, you ungrateful son of a bitch."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm thankful to Nova for saving my skin yet again. What was it we came up with Nova? 'Alone we are strong, but together we are invincible?'"

"Yeah, that's about right."

"You catch the neon sign on the way in?"

He started laughing so hard I knew there wouldn't be any stopping him, anytime soon at least. "Do we have confirmation that this is the place, LT?"

"Yeah, that's where I was, so I hope you can forgive me for not being here to save you."

I shrugged, "Let's get the fuck out of here."

We walked back out, laughing and cheering, an early celebration if you will. Finally, I glanced over and saw the van. The girl should still be there. I started walking towards it, ignoring the protests from LT.

I undid the latch and opened the back, half expecting her to be gone anyways. She was still there, hiding in the corner. She saw me, and jumped up, but froze when she saw Nova. Lt walked up a second later, "What is she doing here?"

"She's how I found this place. I promised I would get her out."

"We can't, she's a liability now, and she's seen your face."

LT drew his gun and leveled it with her head. I reached around my back to grab one of my Colts, quickly realizing I forgot to pick them back up. Swear words were swarming in my head, but none of them would come out. Only one thought prevailed in my mind, I couldn't let her die. Glancing down I noticed that Vinnie's revolver was sitting within arm's reach, and I slowly reached for it. I saw her face, and the tears running down her cheeks strengthened my resolve for what I was about to do.

LT worked the slide on his pistol, "I'm sorry about this, but we can't let you live."

She looked at me, eyes conveying everything: that she was desperate, that she thought I was a liar for telling her it would be alright. That she didn't want to die, not yet.

A shot was fired.

The thunderous bark was heard for miles.

LT let out a scream of agony as the .44 slug blew his hand apart, leaving a bloody stump at the wrist. The gun clattered to the ground as I quickly followed it up with a head butt to his forehead as he turned to accuse me and a knee to his groin.

He was kneeling on the ground, and I was staring at him, the sights of the gun the only thing standing between us. I could see it all in his eyes: fear, pain... acceptance. He opened his mouth to speak, to plead pitifully for his life. I never heard his last words.

Time slows as the hammer drops. I savor the recoil and muzzle flash. The thunderous sound was deafening, but I could still hear the sound of flesh being severed, bones crunching. My mentor was now dead. It felt like I killed my own father, but I could live with the guilt. Nova and I made a promise after the last job. After he had made us destroy a casino to get the mafia boss inside, killing hundreds of civilians. He justified it by saying that no one is truly innocent. The debt of blood must be repaid in full.

We swore that we would never let that happen again, that we would kill him, if it came down to it. Truth be told I've wanted to kill him for awhile now.

I finally snapped out of it and swung the gun around and pointed it at Nova, not sure of how he would react, half expecting there to be a gun on my head.

He was smiling, "I'm proud of you, little brother. You finally developed a conscience. You did what was right, even though you were trained to do what you were told, no matter the consequence."

I smiled, and then fired. The metallic ringing sounded though the air as a shocked Nova fell to the ground… without his exploding GPS collar.

I was half expecting a torrent of fire, but his shocked expression turned to a smirk when he realized what happened.

I turned to the girl, surprised that she was still here, "Are you alright?"

She nodded then pointed at my face, "I thought you said you would be," she made air quotes, "Fine."

Nova laughed, "He has a knack for finding the most danger in any situation. Usually more than he can handle."

I shook my head, and then looked at the girl, "It's time for you to go." She nodded and hopped out of the van. She started to leave, but I grabbed her arm, "It's best if you just forget any of this ever happened. And you should especially forget us."

She nodded and started running, but I never noticed that she had looked back. That she was trying to convince me with her eyes to let her come with us.

I looked at Nova as the flesh on my face knitted itself back together, leaving an intimidating scar. I spun the chamber on the revolver, "Well, I think we have a score to settle."

* * *

Please R&R. Tell me if its good, bad, or so terrible you want to lobotomize yourself it rid it form your brain.


	5. Decide Our Fate

Hello, Payn92 here.

Well, sadly this isn't an update to the story, more of a "See if the story is worth continuing" thing. So if you would be so kind as to contact me via review or some sort of message, and let me know if you would like to see this story continued or scrapped, that would be appreciated. If I get enough positive feedback, I'll get off my lazy ass and update.

Thank you to everyone who has read the story, and I know I haven't update in forever, but believe it or not, I do have a few ideas for the story. Looking forward to the public's feedback.


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